


make him wait

by rinthegreat



Series: Established Shance in a "Canon"verse [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, M/M, Mild Fluff, Season 3 Spoilers, Sort of hurt/comfort, shangst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 13:05:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11760489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinthegreat/pseuds/rinthegreat
Summary: Shiro avoids the team until he can't avoid them anymore. More specifically, until he can't avoid Lance anymore. Established Shance.Now part of a series!





	make him wait

**Author's Note:**

> set a few minutes into episode 6 (after keith tells shiro he needs to join the team but before shiro really does. i pretended a few days passed between scenes) 
> 
> unbetaed. all mistakes are my own.
> 
> Edit: I took out the nickname "kitten" from here. I know it's a common nickname in this ship, but I've never included it in a fic before, and in this canonverse series I felt it stood out like a poor thumb. I am also deleting the use of "Kashi" from the next one for the same reason.

The first mistake Shiro makes is wandering the halls with his eyes glazed over, letting muscle memory take over. Well, no that’s not quite right. The first mistake he made was leaving his room to get food rather than asking Keith to bring some to him. The second mistake is wandering the halls.

The third is letting his mind drift to Lance.

He’d been lucky enough to be found by Keith alone. To have been brought back nearly unconscious and deposited into a med pod before he could register what was happening. To wake up with just Keith and Coran in the room, able to disappear without having to meet the eyes of the rest of the team.

Shame is not quite the word Shiro would put to his feeling. It’s something deeper than that, something darker. He’d been captured – he thinks – and his team had rearranged itself in his absence. How much, he doesn’t know. Doesn’t want to know.

Which is why he’s spent the past few nights hidden in his room.

Tonight, he hadn’t wanted to bother Keith. He’d convinced himself that leaving his room was a good idea – that he could wait until everyone was asleep and get food for himself. But on his way back, his mind had…slipped.

Which is how he found himself here, standing just inside Lance’s door.

He’d opened it before he’d noticed what he was doing, and now that he’s inside, he doesn’t want to leave. Lance is sleeping, curled peacefully on the bed, bathed in the blue glow of the night lights Shiro had set up before he’d disappeared. Lance had complained before, claimed it was harder to get his beauty rest, so Shiro’s a little surprised to see that he kept using them.

He means to stand there, drink in the sight of a sleeping Lance, memorize it for later, and then leave. He can’t risk staying with Lance, not when he doesn’t know what was done to his mind.

But nothing ever goes according to plan.

Lance stirs, as if he knows he’s being watched. He turns over and cracks one eye open – wearing no face mask tonight. “Shiro?”

Any thoughts Shiro had of sneaking out disappear immediately. “Lance,” he breathes.

As if waking from a spell, Lance’s eyes widen. He jerks upright, openly staring at Shiro. “Tell me I’m not dreaming this time,” he demands.

He’s looking at Shiro like he doesn’t believe he’s really here. As if this has happened before. There are tears at the corner of his eyes, and Shiro shatters. He closes the distance between them, kneeling in front of Lance. “I’m sorry, Lance. I’m so sorry.”

Lance collapses against him, wrapping his arms around Shiro’s neck. Shiro immediately returns the embrace, gathering Lance into his arms. How could he have denied himself this? How could he have forced himself to stay away for so long?

He can feel the drops fall against his neck, hear the soft sobs choked against his shoulder. He did this. He made Lance cry.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, tightening his hold.

Shiro stays there, clutching Lance to his chest until Lance cries himself out. His knees ache, his back is already sore from hunching over, but none of that matters. He doesn’t let himself give into the pain, discomfort. Not until Lance’s grip on him slackens, his breaths calm.

Somehow, Lance had managed to fall asleep.

Only then does Shiro extract himself from his grip. Lance’s fingers are tangled in his hair, preventing Shiro from getting too far. Not that he plans to.

He lifts Lance into the bed before lying down next to him. How many nights had passed that he’d forced Lance to sleep alone? How many mornings had Lance woken up without him? _How long was he gone?_

Shiro doesn’t sleep that night. He dozes, waking himself whenever reality starts to slip away. He doesn’t trust himself. Every time he closes his eyes, there’s a chance he’ll open them again and find himself somewhere else. Or worse.

Because Shiro’s not convinced that the Galra didn’t mess with his mind.

Keith hasn’t mentioned it, no one else has talked to him since he arrived, but there’s no way the thought hasn’t occurred to anyone else. There’s a chance he’s brainwashed, programmed to hurt his team. Shiro knows it. Knows the druids can alter his reality. It’s not a stretch to think they could command him to kill his friends, family, the people he loves.

So instead he forces himself to stay awake. It’s not as hard as he’d thought. He passes the time feeling Lance’s chest rise and fall against his own. He counts each exhale on his neck as he cards his fingers through Lance’s hair. Catalogues every nuance of Lance’s appearance, comparing it against his memories. There are dark circles under his eyes, standing out against his paled skin. His cheekbones are more pronounced than before, matching his bony shoulders.

It all adds up to the same thing: Lance hasn’t been taking care of himself.

In another reality, he’d keep Lance locked away, far from danger and worry. But this is not that reality. In this reality, he has to do his best to keep Lance out of danger, no matter how many times he leaps straight into it.

He keeps his eyes locked on Lance’s sleeping form throughout the entire night, not moving even as the lights shift from blue to yellow. No announcement blares over the speakers, no alarm demands they get up. So he’ll stay frozen here until Lance wakes.

Lance’s expression tightens, a small frown forming. He grumbles, shifting in Shiro’s arms before opening his eyes. For a moment, he stares at Shiro’s chest confused. But his gaze eventually drifts up, smile lighting his face.

“It wasn’t a dream.”

“No, Lance. It wasn’t.”

Lance beams. Shiro can’t help the soft smile on his own lips. “I can’t believe you’re really back.”

Shiro wouldn’t say he’s _back_. Not really. One night with Lance isn’t enough to do that. But Keith’s right – it’s time to see the rest of the team again.

Eventually.

For now, he can’t bring himself to get out of bed. Not that there’s an immediate need. Lance’s fingers are combing through his hair, scratching down the back of his neck and top of his shoulders. He sinks into the pillow closing his eyes. “That feels nice.”

“Your hair is so long,” Lance muses. “And I think there’s more white in it this time.”

“Hmm…” Shiro agrees, not really caring.

He shivers as Lance’s fingertips graze over his chin. “Stubble, too.”

“Should I get rid of it?”

The fingers disappear, and Shiro opens his eyes. Lance is staring at him thoughtfully. Finally, he cups both hands around Shiro’s cheeks. “Well it’s not very military, but I think I could get used to it.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘please cut it’.”

“I’m more concerned about your hair getting whiter than how much you have.”

“So you won’t like me as an old man?” Shiro half-teases. The other half of him worries. Lance won’t like him when all this is over, when he has more options than just the five of them.

The concern must show in his voice, because Lance leans forward, planting a kiss on his mouth, morning breath be damned. “You know that’s not true,” he promises when he pulls away. “I’ll always want you, Shiro. Even when your hair is longer and whiter than Allura’s.” He curls into Shiro’s chest again.

Shiro lets out a chuckle. “I’ll cut it anyway.”

“What if I said I liked it better?”

Shiro pauses. “I think I’d cut it for now anyway. Easier to get into a helmet.”

“But you’ll grow it out after the war?”

After the war. The war that shows no sign of ending, that Shiro’s not sure is even slowing down.

“Shiro,” Lance draws his attention back, “the war will end. I promise.”

He’s right; the war will end. No war can last forever. Shiro just doesn’t think he’ll live to see it. He’s not sure any of them will. But Lance is looking at him expectantly, sharp edges reminding Shiro how fragile he really is. No matter how many jokes he makes.

“I’ll grow it out after the war,” he concedes. If only to watch Lance’s face soften.

He could lie here forever like this, let the universe pass them by. If the Galra destroyed everything but this room, he could almost be happy.

Almost.

He removes his arm from around Lance and taps him on the shoulder. “You should brush your teeth and get ready. Allura and Keith are probably waiting for you.

“Are you coming?” Lance asks, voice brittle. As if he expects Shiro to say no.

“Of course. I need to shower first, though. Okay?”

Before, Lance would’ve insisted that they shower together. Would’ve teased and pressured Shiro until he gave in. Maybe even pull a line, ask him _hey is that a rocket in your pocket or are you just happy to shower with me?_ Something cheesy, terrible. Something he’d know would make Shiro laugh.

Now, though, Lance swallows and nods. “I’ll meet you out there, then.” He extracts himself without needing to be pushed further, and Shiro’s stomach twists.

He gets out of bed and closes the distance between them, grabbing Lance’s wrist before he can walk out. Lance winces, and Shiro releases him immediately, aware his grip was too tight. “I’ll come. I promise.” _Believe in me_ , he doesn’t add.

“I know,” Lance assures him with a soft smile. “Don’t take too long.” He reaches out, giving Shiro’s hand a squeeze. Shiro lets him go, watching him disappear through the door. He really won’t take too long; he never wants to make Lance wait again.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [tumblr](https://rinthegreat.tumblr.com) where we can scream about shance together. <3


End file.
